


Unfinished

by rocknerd



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Hisoillu is my life, Kinda crack?, Light-Hearted, Mild Sexual Content, bungee gum - Freeform, clown clown clown clown, idk what this is, kinda canon compliant but not really, mild killugon, petty illumi, that's more like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 13:06:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15389391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocknerd/pseuds/rocknerd
Summary: Even when he’s making out in a dingy alleyway his brain won’t shut up about Killua. Illumi loves his brother and all, but can’t he be spared just this once while he’s trying to suck face with the clown?





	Unfinished

_Aniki?_

Illumi sighs against Hisoka’s lips. _Seriously?_ Even when he’s making out in a dingy alleyway his brain won’t shut up about Killua. Illumi loves his brother and all, but can’t he be spared just this once while he’s trying to suck face? He pushes the image of Killua out of his thoughts and leans back into the magician’s embrace, already starved of his taste. Hisoka doesn’t let him though, pulling back, a wide grin on his face. _Asshole._

_Aniki!_

The voice returns faintly, and Illumi growls, grabbing the back of Hisoka’s head and slamming their mouths together. Blood trickles onto his tongue, sweet and rich, and the older man’s hands travel down his back, grip rough and demanding. Illumi shudders, mind just hazy enough to relax his shoulders. Hisoka chuckles warmly, but he doesn’t seem focused. 

Illumi can tell, because his fingers are moving too quickly; too theatrically, fingers splayed out carefully against his hip. His posture is stiff. He’s being too calculated about how they’re standing. When his eyes begin to glint mischievously, Illumi knows Hisoka’s distracted. 

People walk past them hurriedly, some appalled, others gobsmacked. It’s annoying, but Illumi has come to accept Hisoka’s showmanship as an unkillable part of his personality. If he’s being honest, Illumi doesn’t even mind the looks and heckles, so long as he gets what he wants. 

Which, right now, he isn’t.

He pinches Hisoka’s neck, forcing the attention back to himself. Hisoka groans softly, eyes fixating on Illumi’s bloody lip. They breathe heavily, waiting for a move to be made. Illumi refuses to initiate twice in a row because he’s not that desperate, nope, definitely not that desperate, despite the tent in his pants that he’s sure his companion can feel. Not desperate. Besides, he’s been refused already, so it’s now Hisoka’s turn to appease him. Give-and-take, and all that. 

Except Hisoka doesn’t seem to think so, and his stare has reverted to its perverse, heady glee from before, eyes wandering around and head lolling and god, there’s no way out of this now. Once he gets like this, it’s hard to regain Hisoka’s focus. The magician always calls him difficult, which is ironic in every sense because at least Illumi knows how to commit to something in full. 

He strikes a frustrated blow against Hisoka’s chest and steps back. 

“I do not appreciate this,” he huffs, blowing hair out of his face. 

“Hmm?” Hisoka moves forward, but Illumi stops him with an open palm. Too late. 

“Do not waste my time, Hisoka. Either finish the job, or forfeit and suffer the consequences.”

A tinkling laugh. “The consequences of what? Your erection? Mm, I think I’d enjoy that, actually.”

 _What the hell??_ Killua’s voice echoes again, louder this time. Illumi clenches his fists. The only way to keep Killua out of mind is to kiss Hisoka again. But he has just given Hisoka all the control by letting him choose whether they are to continue kissing. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake”, Illumi hears himself say, a slave to his adrenaline by this point. 

Hisoka waves a hand in the air. “That’s harsh, Illu.” He closes the distance between them, pressing his nose against the side of Illumi’s head. “But don’t worry, I’d-” The sentence is cut short by a sudden loud, pubescent shriek. 

“What the hell is going on!?”

Illumi whirls around, hair slapping the magician in the face because he swears to all hell that he can hear his brother standing right behind him. His brain tells him the probability is very low, given how fond Killua is of playing hide and seek with him, but a rare surprise awaits in the form of a white-haired fourteen year old boy, blue eyes wide in shock, about seven metres from him in the now empty, dark alley.

“Killua!”, he says, completely forgetting the depth of his frustration from just a few moments ago. He couldn’t care less about Hisoka if he tried in this very moment. Hisoka seems to realise this and walks up beside him, hand creeping around his waist in a silent but petulant cry for attention. Illumi smacks it away.

He’s elated by his brother’s appearance, but a million questions run through his mind one by one, answers supplied in milliseconds as he observes his brother in stark, awkward silence. 

“Hello, Gon. It’s been a long time,” Hisoka purrs, filling the empty void currently occupied by the Zoldyck brothers, both quietly scanning each other like well-oiled machines. 

Gon stands beside his best friend. Illumi registers this in his periphery. He hadn’t even noticed he was there, having been caught up in all manner of peculiar things this past twenty minutes. 

“Hello, Hisoka,” Gon replies. He seems rather stupid to Illumi, and a momentary concern grips him as he recalls the damage he has caused Killua’s potential as an assassin. At the same time, however, Illumi would be a fool to deny the obvious effect Gon was having on Killua’s raw strength and mental fortitude. The dark-haired man knew full well the plight his beloved brother had endured in his battle against the Chimera ants; knew that Gon was partially responsible for Killua fighting Illumi’s control and removing his needle but that in the long run, the white-haired child has been able to develop a strong hatsu and delve deeper into real-world training. Or at least, that is what his father believes. So, by extension, it is what Illumi believes he should believe, and so believes. 

“What are you doing here, Killua?” _How long have you been here? What did you see? Why was your voice so muffled before?..._

With a start, Illumi turns to Hisoka, whose right hand is tucked innocuously into his pockets. His aura seems normal, but Illumi can sense remnants of it lingering near his brother and Gon, which doesn’t make sense unless- _Bungee Gum!_

Images of Hisoka’s distracted gaze flash in front of him as he pieces together the strange appearance of his sibling. So he’d used his aura to muffle Killua’s voice? No, Illumi doesn’t sense any physical exertion on his brother, or even Gon, that might have come from being suffocated. He concentrates his _gyo_ further, and notices a thin line of pink staining the sidewalk around the two boys. It’s in a perfect circle, which means Hisoka probably created a barrier. But that still doesn’t explain why Killua’s voice had been so weak and distant, enough so to make him believe he was just hearing things. Illumi frowns. 

_Pop!_

Both brothers turn their heads to where Hisoka and Gon now stand, casually chatting as the magician blows a bubble out of his gum, offering some to an immediately cautious Gon. Upon his refusal, Hisoka shrugs, popping the stretchy, pink sphere with his tongue. 

_Pop!_

So that was how he did it. Illumi takes a second to admire the creativity of his nen, and also to wonder how Hisoka had managed to both trap the boys in his gum, and then mould it into bubble form without once rousing Illumi’s suspicion. 

As the idea of his lust clouding his judgement gets louder, so does Illumi’s desire to throw Hisoka into oncoming traffic and watch the light leave his eyes. But that might annoy Killu, who has become ever so righteous since he teamed up with Gon. Oh, and Gon was sure to try and fight him if tried anything remotely genocidal. Not to mention, the traffic probably wouldn’t leave a scratch on Hisoka’s body. His toned, well-built, sculpted, firm body. Illumi huffs again, unable to maneuver himself out of this situation effectively. 

Hisoka winks at him, and Illumi looks away, refusing to acknowledge him. He will deal with his unimpressive tactics later. For now, Killua is right in the palm of his hand. What should he do? He ponders the best course of action to take, and decides he should at the very least begin a conversation. 

“Have you decided to come ho-”

“No!”, Killua yells before he can finish, disbelief on his face. “No, I’m not coming home! Jesus Christ, Aniki! I’m here because…” 

_Pop!_

He looks to Gon, who is supposed to be providing moral support, but is instead chewing on some of Hisoka’s shady gum with mock-reluctance. He makes an apologetic gesture as he returns to Killua and Illumi along with the magician. 

“Anyway, we were just hanging out and I-”

“Hey, wait a second”, Gon interjects, eyebrows furrowing suddenly. He spits out his gum and tucks it behind his ear. Killua grimaces. The boy points an accusatory finger at Illumi. 

“Didn’t you tell Killua assassins can’t have friends?”

Hisoka is leaning towards him, smirking, as if Illumi’s been caught red-handed or something. 

Illumi nods, the answer quite obvious to him. 

“Yes, that is correct.” He really just wants to talk to Killua, but it seems like the green-haired boy has a lot on his pea-sized mind. 

“So how come _you’re_ friends with _him_ ?”

“With whom?” He is genuinely confused. 

“Ouch,” Killua mumbles.

Gon frowns, clenching his fists. _“Him!”_ , he yells, the sound grating on Illumi’s nerves. Hisoka drapes an arm around his shoulder, and the assassin can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Him and Hisoka? _Friends?_ Hardly. 

Illumi blinks. “We”, he gestures to the magician beside him, whose fingers are digging into his shoulder hard enough to send an inappropriate thrill down his spine, “are not friends.”

The mountain boy looks dumbfounded, his tiny brain probably unable to compute the concept of relationships without emotional investment. 

He splutters. “But-but you’re hanging out with him. And-”

“I don’t need to explain this further.” Illumi’s quite frankly had enough of Gon. He has never understood why Hisoka values him so greatly. He will grow to be a B rank at best, especially considering his emotional volatility and incorrigible stupidity. Hisoka generally deals with A rank or above-- or as he would put it, “90 plus”. 

But back to the matter at hand. “I do not have friends. Killua knows this, don’t you, Kil?”

The boy in question frowns. He locks eyes with Hisoka. Something like indignation swells in Illumi’s chest. Today has been causing him far too many emotions. _He doesn’t trust me?_

“You,” Killua says, nodding his head in Hisoka’s direction. Illumi remembers there’s an arm on him and shrugs it off. 

Hisoka’s nails comes away covered in blood. He places a finger on his chin coyly. “Me?”

Killua ignores Gon’s shock at the sight of the blood and continues. “Yeah. Is my brother friends with you?” _He trusts Hisoka??_ It does not make any sense to Illumi whatsoever. Here stands the boy who once took every word of his to heart and mind with utmost devotion. Who worshipped the ground he stepped on and vowed to be just like him when he grew up. And of all the people in the world, he wants the opinion of a clown? _This_ clown? This deranged, unstable, perverted clown? Over _him?_

Hisoka laughs at Illumi’s murderous gaze. 

“I’m honoured, Killua, but why do you think I would tell you if we were?”

Killua runs a hand through his hair in annoyance. “Listen, you just made us stand here in your Bungee Gum for ten minutes while you groped my brother so I think I have a right to know whether you’re-”, a realisation crosses his face, his nose wrinkling. 

“You know what, actually, I don’t want to know,” he gulps, moving closer to his friend. Electricity begins to crackle around him. 

“Come on. Let’s go.” 

“Wait! I want an answer. Are you two friends or not?”

Killua’s face is redder than red. He looks down, grabbing Gon’s arm. “Gon, just leave it”

“But Killua, it’s not right for him to say stuff like that to you when he’s-”

“I am not friends with Hisoka. I do not have friends. I think I made that quite clear, Gon.” Illumi crosses his arms, stubborn. This is a humiliating assessment of his relationship with the clown, and Illumi isn’t having any of that speculation bullshit. 

Gon doesn’t back down either, just as determined to prove his point. “Really? Then why were you two hugging earlier? Hisoka never hugs anyone, and you don't look like you would either.”

Three heads turn to him in confusion. 

_Hugging?_ Oh, the kid probably couldn’t see their faces, hidden from view behind Illumi’s plentiful hair. 

Still, the assassin thinks it must have been obvious enough that they were doing more than hugging. How oblivious is this kid? He glances at Killua’s embarrassed face and feels a small smile creep up his own. He leans down, smiling triumphantly over Gon’s earnest, unblinking eyes. 

“We weren’t hugging, Gon,” Hisoka says, and Illumi sends a needle flying into his arm. He does not appreciate interruptions. 

“We weren’t hugging, Gon,” Illumi repeats, ignoring the clown’s degenerate moan. 

Gon blinks. 

“What do you mean?”

“Gon, don’t-” Illumi shuts up Killua’s fucking dumbass mouth with a single glare. The dumbass mouth that has ruined his whole day and night and life and everything else ever since the day he was born. Enough is enough, Illumi thinks. He needs the upper hand _now,_ and he’s sick of taking the high road to get what he wants. 

“We were kissing.”

The words leave his mouth and in an instant, Gon’s expression shifts. Illumi can feel laughter bubble in his stomach at the sight. Hisoka grins beside him while the young boy’s face morphs into various shades of green and red before finally blanching. Once he’s regained his composure, Gon turns to Killua, speechless. 

“I told you not to ask,” Killua grumbles. 

Illumi hears himself laugh. It’s been a long time since he has had such a laugh at the expense of someone’s discomfort. He loves it, wishes he could laugh forever, but just as he begins to lose himself to the sheer indulgent joy of his maniacal outburst, Gon ruins his good time, just like he ruins everything. 

“So are you dating then?” This bitch.

Hisoka chokes on air. “No, we’re not.”

Illumi isn’t offended, not really. But that answer was a little too quick for his liking. He agrees anyway. “Assassins don’t-”

“But I don’t get it.”

“GON!”

“No, really, Killua, I don’t.” Then, to Hisoka, “If you’re not dating, why were you kissing?” 

Illumi turns to his brother. “Is your friend so stupid that he cannot understand what’s happening?”

“ _I_ can barely understand what’s happening between you two gross psychos”, Killua growls. “And he’s not stupid, he’s just…”

Hisoka decides he will enlighten the little boy. He will ripen him, let him in on the secret of the adult world, and watch his face crumble as he is robbed of his innocence in a matter of seconds. It should be fun, he muses, and steps forward after his long silence. 

“Gon, do you know wh-”

“I got it!”, Gon exclaims, jumping excitedly. Hisoka raises his eyebrows. Illumi looks on curiously. 

“It’s just like Killua and I!”, he begins earnestly. Horror spreads across Killua’s face. 

Hisoka smirks. “Really now? How is that?”

“Well, Killu and I are friends and you guys say you aren’t, but anyway, we’re not dating but sometimes-” Killua has a hand over his mouth, steam pouring out of his ears and murder in his eyes.

“You idiot! Why would y-”

Illumi doesn’t understand. He needs to hear the rest of what Gon has to say. He grabs Killua’s arm and shoves him aside. 

“What were you saying?”

Gon hesitates. “Well, uhh”

“Gon, he’ll fucking kill you!”

“Language”, Illumi says reflexively, holding the green-haired boy at eye level with one palm on his shirt. 

“What do you mean about you and Killua? Explain yourself.”

Gon struggles against Illumi’s grip, but the assassin isn’t in the mood to let him do any damage. This is serious. The implications could be… fatal for the future of the family. 

“Have you kissed my brother?” The question is ugly, and Illumi can feel bile in his throat at the thought. He keeps a straight face nonetheless. 

Gon is sweating now, scratching his head nervously, heat pinking his cheeks. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to; it’s clear as day. 

Illumi drops him to the ground, the information too strange for him to process. 

Killua runs to Gon’s side as the dark-haired man turns his back on them, walking towards a particularly aggravating Hisoka, whose arms are folded as he leans against a street post. 

Illumi’s done with this. He’s done chasing his little brother around. He’s done trying to make him see straight. Perhaps his father has a point. He’ll return eventually, when he ends up killing Gon. Just like Hisoka will die at Illumi’s hands when he is no longer useful to him. Does that make the magician his friend? No, Hisoka means far less to him than Gon to Killua. Well, in most ways anyhow. 

He watches Hisoka, his sharp nose and his disgusting gelled hair and his soft lips and the ugly paint all over his face and the blood still coating his nails. A familiar shudder lurches through Illumi, and he can see the magician’s shit-eating smile; it crawls under his skin. Asshole. He walks towards him, ready to claw the smug smirk off his face with a renewed enthusiasm when-

“Aniki!”

Really, Illumi is beginning to hate that fucking word. Not more than he hates Gon, but it’s a close second. He sighs, looking over his shoulder, uninterested in anything other than the object of his immediate desire. Hisoka’s influence is becoming a real threat to his work, but he’ll deal with that issue later. 

“I-”

“Just go, Killua. I have matters to attend to.”

Illumi waits patiently for his brother to take his meaning. Once he does, he grabs Gon’s hand quickly, slightly abashed. Electricity slices the air, and in a flash the two boys disappear into the night, the loud, confused yammer of Gon still audible from a distance before it fades. 

Illumi walks up to Hisoka, who is toying with his pack of gum. 

“Family drama, hmm? It’s a good thing I have none.”

“Cut the crap. Are you staying or not? I have a job tomorrow and we’re already three hours behind schedule.” They walk out of the alley and onto the sidewalk.

“Three hours?” Amber eyes glint. They turn the corner and enter the large hotel Illumi is staying in. Elevator doors shut. “You underestimate me, Illumi.”

“And you never keep your word”, he counters. The elevator pings. 

Hisoka laughs, kissing Illumi’s cheek. They stumble into the room. 

“That’s a lie”, he hums as the door shuts behind them; immediately they plunder each others’ mouths. A soft sigh escapes Illumi as Hisoka kisses his wounded shoulder, already tearing at his clothes. The magician comes up to clash teeth painfully, leaving the taste of iron on Illumi’s tongue. He looks down at the tent in his pants which has returned with much gusto, and Hisoka holds his arms again, grinning as the younger man makes an irritated noise.

Illumi presses their foreheads together instead, urging him to move things along, arms still locked against Hisoka’s, the eagerness earning him a dark bite on his neck. “And besides”, Hisoka continues, looking at him through his thoroughly mussed hair, gaze ravenous as they fall onto the bed violently.

“You know I hate leaving things unfinished.”

**Author's Note:**

> idk what this is. i hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> 1) I imagine Illumi has a similar scale to Hisoka for judging people's strength, if only because he's all about risk assessment. Why is it alphabets instead of numbers? who knows???


End file.
